to love is to be loved

it was cold out but we didn't mind.
he clung onto me.. i knew he liked me.
i rested my face on his chest.. i was tired.

i didn't mind that it wasn't real. i was just happy knowing i was capable of provoking feelings in someone else-- a whole set of emotions i've long been incapable of experiencing myself. it wasn't love, but it was something of that sort. he spoke of extremities i knew not to believe. he promised things like always, never, and  forever. i was fully aware that these were all empty promises but i didn't care. i liked hearing what he had to say.

his heart beat fast so i held him close.
i desperately wanted to be in sync with a functioning heart.